


Positive Charge and Thermodynamics

by Cranky_Tanky



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Rodimus teaches Ultra Magnus how to meteor surf and it's very good, Ultra Magnus' strict adherence to rules, bar shenanigans, meteor surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 15:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21038363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cranky_Tanky/pseuds/Cranky_Tanky
Summary: Ultra Magnus has a problem. He's in love with his Captain, Rodimus Prime of Nyon.Rodimus also has a problem. He's in love with his Security Director, Ultra Magnus.What are they going to do about it?





	Positive Charge and Thermodynamics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roboticscreen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roboticscreen/gifts).

**I.**

**Adherence**

Magnus sighed, staring harshly down at the datapad in his hand as if he wished it would tell him something different. 

He did. 

If this kind of thing wasn’t sanctioned, he could at least have some sort of baseline to deny his feelings, some kind of anchor to latch onto. 

But no. 

Per Article 2 of the Autobot Code, Section 5, Subsection 36, lines 13-18, “A subordinate officer who wishes to engage in a relationship with a senior officer is not explicitly acting against regulation. It is up to the officers’ discretion on whether or not to proceed with this relationship, but proper paperwork must be filed with the department after the relationship is entered into to make it official and so it can be noted on each officer’s record for posterity.”

The blue giant put his datapad down, and huffed. He put his face into his hands. His nervousness was getting the better of him. Courting a superior officer was a bad idea. It would cloud the judgement of all parties involved. It wouldn’t be safe for the rest of the crew members and oh, how Magnus worried about that constantly. Rung had tried to break it to him gently that he probably had some form of Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder, “in my unofficial expert opinion, of course.” Magnus knew that, although he wouldn’t have guessed it was a personality disorder. But he was functioning with it! He could live with the anxiety, if he was being honest, and it didn’t overwhelm him too much. Besides, he had the right to be a little “high strung,” he had a whole ship to keep safe. A whole crew. A whole crew manned by one of the most reckless, daring,  _ feckless _ people this side of --

Magnus puffed even harder, realizing he’d been trailing off about Rodimus again. 

Day in and day out, his thoughts were consumed by the fiery speedster. The cause of this whole dilemma he was in. Magnus was a professional, or so he thought! It wasn’t proper to fall in love with his Captain, to dream of him at night, to want to court him and fall asleep next to him. And yet he was so bright and alluring, a magnet of a personality. Magnus had no idea how he did it -- was that just how he was? It wasn’t infuriating -- that would imply anger, and Magnus was not angry so much as scared -- but it was certainly hampering his ability to perform his duties. How could he effectively protect everyone aboard this ship if all he could daydream about was holding Rodimus’ hand? He couldn’t, that’s how. 

The security director looked up as a knock sounded on his door, and Rodimus himself poked his head in, dazzling as ever. Magnus harshly denied a request for his fans to come on, and tried not to let his cheeks heat up. It was a futile effort as Rodimus flashed him one of those dazzling smiles, full of charisma and fun. “Hey there, Mags! So, uh, you’ve seemed a little distracted lately.”

Magnus bowed his head in shame. “Of course, Captain, I apologize. I simply-”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it pal,” Rodimus said, voice tinged with concern as he came all the way in and shut the door behind himself. “I’m not chewin’ ya out, I’m just… ya know. A little worried.” 

When Magnus looked back up, Rodimus’ blue eyes were sincere, and he flashed another smile. It was more of a crooked grin as his brow ridge pulled up. “You, uh, you okay big guy?”

“I’m well,” Magnus said, “I run a diagnostic at the end of every workday. No problems to repo-”

Rodimus put his hand up and looked away. “Mags,” he said, and Magnus blurted it out before he could stop himself.

“Magnus,” he corrected, and cringed before he noticed Rodimus smiling.

“There we go,” the speedster joked, spoiler twitching alluringly. Magnus’s face heated to an unbearable degree as his thoughts strayed to grabbing it, listening to the gasp that would surely follow such a bold action… Rodimus was still speaking. “That’s my big guy. But, uh… I was just wondering if you were alright, ya know, you seem a little… off.”

“Off.”

“Yeah,” Rodimus said, shrugging in what seemed like shyness and smiling, looking away. He was not maintaining as much eye contact as he usually did. In fact, Magnus thought back on it and realized that Rodimus had developed a chronic habit of avoiding his gaze. “Off.”

“I feel perfectly well,” Magnus said, “But on the contrary, Rodimus, I’ve noticed that you seem to be… ‘off’ as well. Is everything in order?”

“Huh? Me? Oh, oh, uh,” Rodimus stuttered, beaming. His face was pinkish, was he ill? A fever in the engine, perhaps? A cold? “Oh, um, I’m great, big dude. Totally fine, never better. Just a little hot under the hood! Got some charge to burn off, ya know,  _ not like that!” _ His face got even darker as he threw up his hands, looking rather mortified, and Magnus’ face burned in tandem with Rodimus’ when the enforcer realized that Rodimus was talking about interfacing.

“Of course, Captain,” Magnus managed after a couple of tries, clearing his throat. “I see. Well, seeing as how we are both…  _ fine _ , was there anything else you needed?”

“Uh…” Rodimus looked around. “I… guess not. Keep up the good work, Mags.”

“Magnus!”

“Glad you’re okay,” Rodimus rushed out, before rushing out of the room with his body rather than just his words. When the door closed, Magnus found himself wishing Rodimus hadn’t left. He moped at his desk for a few moments before shaking himself out of it, sighing. He had to think this through. There was no explicit rule against captain and security director courting each other. There were, in fact, specific guidelines on how to conduct this enterprise. There were specific guidelines on how  _ best _ to conduct such an enterprise. It was everything Magnus could have asked for, and yet… 

The giant sighed heavily. Perhaps the reason he was so nervous about this was not because of his worry for the rulebook, but something more personal. If that was the case, given the fact that Magnus was entirely in his right to start trying to court his captain, he saw no actual need to hold himself back beyond his own nerves. He shook out his hands to try and get the jitters out and made up his mind. He was going to court Rodimus Prime of Nyon -- and he was going to follow the rule of book to the  _ semicolon _ .

  
  
**II.**

**Reflection**

_ “That’s my big guy?” _ Rodimus questioned, frustrated as he sagged back into his desk. “What am I, a newframe with a crush? Come on, Roddy.” He irritatedly started etching doodles into what little space his desk had left and tried to lose himself in the action like he always seemed to be able to do. 

It just wasn’t coming to him today, it seemed. When he zoned back in completely, he noticed the half-finished outline of Magnus’ face and growled, harshly scouring it out. He’d have to solder the desk later and fill that back in, but it was worth not having something so embarrassingly juvenile on his desk. Maybe he really did need to let off some steam. They were coming up on an asteroid belt within a couple of days -- maybe he could go meteor surfing? That always seemed to work! Yeah, that’d be great! Perfect!

Rodimus glanced over at the precarious pile of unread datapads on the other side of his desk and groaned, folding his arms onto his desk to plop his forehead into them.

  
  


\----------------------------

Rodimus excitedly jumped in place at the loading dock, shaking out his limbs and bouncing on his toes, huffing his vents. Magnus stood stiffly beside him, arms crossed. Rodimus was… acutely aware of his presence. It made his cheeks heat up. “Oh my god, I’m so ready.”

“Just… please be careful, Rodimus. Go slowly.”

“Slowly! C’mon, Mags,  _ live _ a little!”

“Magnus.”

“Listen,” Rodimus said, “who do you think I am, er -- R… um, the psychbot? I know how to have fun, I’m not some old geezer like Kup who has to drive five miles an hour! The whole point of meteor surfing is to let loose and feel the heat!”

Ultra Magnus cleared his throat, and Rodimus stilled a little, looking over and up at him. His face was turned away a little, his cheeks slightly flushed. Was he okay? “I just… worry about things, Rodimus.”

“Yeah,” The speedster said, patting his elbow. “I know. Trust me, okay? Loosen up, just a little? It’s  _ fun, _ I promise!”

“That’s not a word,” Magnus said assertively, and Rodimus resisted the urge to gigglesnort. “I’d have heard of it.”

A long pause followed. The air grew more and more stiff and choking. Ultra Magnus cleared his throat again and it was like a cannonblast that shook the very foundations of the ship. “That was a joke. I was joking. It was a play on the fact that I-”

Rodimus started cackling, genuinely tickled to bits that Magnus was trying to explain what had been an objectively unfunny joke. He doubled over with laughter and straightened back up. “Mags, Mags, please. It’s okay. It was… it was actually really funny.”

“Ah. I… see.”

Rodimus’ laughter faded into a gentle smile, and he laid his hand on Magnus’ arm. He could feel his own cheeks heat up, but he ignored it, hoping it would go away. They were almost at the dropoff point for the meteor surfing. “Mags, you don’t have to make yourself something you’re not, I promise. People really do like you just as you are.”

Magnus’ face flushed and he blinked in shock, turning away and clearing his throat. “Erm,” he coughed, “Thank… thank you, Captain.”

The silence hung in the air a long time. The beeping of the dock doors opening rang out, and Magnus finally turned back to face Rodimus. “Are you ready?” he asked, softly, and Rodimus grinned.

“I was forged ready,” he announced victoriously, and took a running sprint at the loading dock doors, flinging himself off the cliff of the ship into a perfect swan dive. The wind ripped at his plating and roared in his audials, stealing the breath right out of his mouth like a fist had reached into his throat and pulled all of the air out. Smaller fingers plucked scraps of air out of his vents. In the back of his mind, the feeling of launching himself like this echoed a deeper, less tangible leap he could take. And… 

… well, Rodimus was all about taking leaps, wasn’t he?

  
  


\----------------------

  
  


As Magnus watched Rodimus disappear out of view and let out a whoop that thinly floated through the wispy air, a jolt of fear struck him like a smith’s hammer on the anvil. He hurriedly approached the door and peered off the edge. Rodimus was falling, falling so fast the air had started to heat up around him, and yet he was laughing. He tucked and rolled out of his rebar-straight swan dive and ended splayed in the air, creating more drag like a cushion as his head swivelled for a meteor to land on and start surfing. They were all around him -- the ship was too big to be damaged by most of them, but they did need to leave the airspace soon in case any larger meteors decided to show up. Magnus felt a compulsion to keep his eyes on Rodimus the entire time -- the second he looked away was the second some horrible accident would happen -- and then he had the utterly insane impulse to join his captain.

_ Who am I, Whirl?  _ Magnus scoffed to himself, shuddering in fear even as the compulsion grew. It frightened him so much he took a step back from the door to make sure he didn’t step off the edge. Even if he did want to join his captain, he had no training of any kind in this, and he had never attempted such a feat in his life. Rodimus had said that this was a particularly tricky belt -- not one for beginners. Magnus couldn’t see it ending well. Still the compulsion grew. He could only describe it as the soft siren song of l'appel du vide. It would not be good for him to jump and yet his mind was consumed with thoughts of jumping -- of soaring down to where Rodimus had currently planted his feet on a meteor and was currently steering with his hips, shouting in glee. The ship started to pull up and away. It was now or never.

Magnus did not jump. Perhaps another day.

Magnus was, however, waiting for his captain when the shower was over, and the ship landed where Rodimus pinged his coordinates. The blue giant rushed out to meet his captain and subtly looked him over, worried. Rodimus was a little scuffed, and his paint a little worn from the sheer power of the wind, but he looked cheerful, bright eyed, full of mechadrenaline and high on the feeling. “Mags,” he said breathily, and the breathiness of his voice caused Magnus’ cooling fans to click on. “Mags, that was amazing! You should have seen it, Mags!”

“I was watching,” Magnus said, stiffly. “You were -- very excellent.”

“Excellent?” Rodimus laughed. “I’ll say! I was all like WOOSH and then the meteor next to me was like ZZYOOM and then, and then…”

Magnus smiled before he realized it, a gentle smile full of affection. Rodimus trailed off of his excited chatter as they both boarded the ship and the doors closed behind them. 

“Hey,” Rodimus said, a smile mirroring Magnus’ own blooming. “You’re smiling.”

“Huh? Oh,” Magnus said, and quickly adjusted his face.

“No, no,” Rodimus said, glancing away. “It’s… good. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” Magnus said gruffly, and sighed a shaky breath. It was time to take his own leap. “Excuse me, Captain -- but would you care to accompany me for drinks tonight? Provided our duties are both done and we fill out the proper paperwork in accordance with Articl-”

“Mags,” Rodimus interrupted, voice tender as he glanced back over. “I’d love to.”

He’d love to? Magnus flushed even darker and cleared his throat. He’d have to make sure Swerve’s was perfectly up to code, of course, and he supposed the minibot wouldn’t mind a surprise inspection -- it wasn’t like Magnus was looking to trip him up. And he’d have to make sure his duties were done into the next day, what he could take care of in advance, just to make extra sure he didn’t forget a thing. And he would have to file Form GT156-A, followed by FH437-C, in accordance with Article 2 of the Autobot Code, Section 5, Subsection 35, lines 5-26. Officers going on social gatherings as more than comrades filed paperwork to document it. 

Most officers simply skipped over this paperwork and didn’t bother -- but not Magnus, never Magnus. Form GT156-A was to document the specific social event taking place -- the whos, the whys, the hows -- and Form FH437-C was to denote that officers had officially started seeing each other as more than comrades -- not even necessarily romantic. That paperwork could come later. Magnus could even file it in a special folder to pull out when or if the time did come. The thought made cybermoths flutter in his tanks with giddiness. 

“So when?” Rodimus asked, trotting energetically along beside Magnus. “And where? Just us?”

“Er. Yes, just the two of us, unless you have someone you’d like to invite. And it would be Swerve’s, after our upcoming afternoon shifts are over.”

“Ah, got it! Alright, it’s a date, Mags!”

“Magnus!” Mags corrected sternly, as Rodimus laughed, and waved goodbye as he turned to jog down another hallway to go do something -- probably not work. Magnus was so affectionately exasperated that he almost forgot to notice Rodimus’ wording.

“Wait, a date?” he nearly squeaked. But -- he wasn’t really courting Rodimus, not officially! Did Rodimus see it otherwise? Would that mean that Magnus would have to file relationship paperwork as well? Which forms should he submit? Form BU784-G? Form OS113-A? Or even --  _ Form ND693-S? _

No… no. Magnus shook his head. Definitely not Form ND693-S -- that was for conjunx ritus intentions. He was letting his anxieties get the better of him, and so he took a moment to take a deep breath, picturing himself filing away paperwork perfectly, everything exactly in order. The mental image calmed him and cleared his head and so he tackled the problem again. For now, he could file Forms GT156-A and FH437-C, and that would be enough. Rodimus had been speaking figuratively. Magnus set off towards Swerve’s -- he could still get that surprise inspection in before his shift.

  
  


\----------------------------

  
  


Swerve glanced up at the hulking figure of Ultra Magnus in the doorway, and beamed. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our noble Security Director!” he shouted, waving. “What can I do ya for, Magnus?”

“Good afternoon, Swerve,” Magnus greeted stiffly. “I’m here to do an inspection.”

Swerve’s face fell. “Something wrong? I keep the place tip-top ya know.”

“No, no,” Magnus said, feeling a little bad. He wished he didn’t make everyone feel like he was out to scold them or punish them for everything -- but everyone was just so  _ unsafe _ , and he could hardly stand to watch it without chewing the paint off of his fingertips. “No, um… well, it’s a long story.”

“I’m a bartender, Magnus,” Swerve said wryly. “I’m in the business of long stories. Sit down, I’ll get you something non-engexic and you can tell me before we start.”

Magnus accepted, keeping an eye on the clock. He had time. “Well, the Captain and I are coming in later tonight. For drinks, after our shift.”

“Hey, hey,” Swerve led, waggling his eyebrow ridge in a way that made Magnus blush. “You sly dog! Congratulations! How are you planning on courting him?”

Hearing it said out loud was agonizing! Magnus answered anyways. “I intend to make sure that our courting excursions go perfectly,” he said, firmly. “And that includes making sure the spaces we visit on the ship are up to code. It really is nothing personal, Swerve.”

“Oh, I know! I know,” Swerve said cheerfully, nodding along as he polished a glass. “Mhmm. I see. Have you thought about just… spending time with him?”

“Er -- that’s what I’ll be doing later tonight.”

“No, no.” Swerve put the glass down and leaned over the counter. “I mean just… in the moment. Not trying to fix all of these little problems that I guarantee neither of you will remember a decade from now. You know how Roddy is, Mags… he likes you, I can tell. And I don’t think he’d care if the second light fixture in the recessed ceiling lighting had a bulb that was a little faulty. When you’re in the room…” Swerve shrugged. “He doesn’t notice the little things like that.”

“A faulty bulb can be quite serious,” Magnus said gravely, and Swerve waved it aside. 

“Not my point -- as a general rule. He talks about you, ya know.”

“He -- he does?”

“Mhm. Trust me -- it’s a nice gesture, and of course I’ll help you set it up, but…” Swerve smiled brightly, ignoring his own pang of loneliness. It seemed like everyone was getting together on this ship except for him. “But… he’s here for you, Magnus. Just you. Now, you finished with the drink? You’re gonna love what I’ve done with the place, I run a tight ship -- er, bar. Come on!” Swerve excitedly waved him around with both a hand gesture and a head jerk, beaming. The inspection took precisely one hour and forty minutes.

Afterwards, Magnus looked around, finally done. As promised, Swerve’s maintenance was perfect, and Swerve gently socked him on the arm awkwardly. The air was comfortably warm and smelled like comfort food and drink.

“Told ya so,” the little bartender laughed. “Here, I’ll reserve your table, how about that? Go ahead and pick one.”

Magnus looked around, and picked a nice, quiet table near the back, where he and Rodimus could hear each other well and not be disturbed by other patrons. Swerve nodded thoughtfully. 

“Uh huh, uh huh,” he said, fingers pinching his chinpiece as his lower lip poked out. “Gotcha. So, is this a table-candle kinda event, or just having drinks kinda thing?”

Magnus flushed darkly and hotly. “Er -- it’s not so formal as to require a candle of any sort.”

“Gootcha,” Swerve nodded along thoughtfully. “Gotcha, gotcha gotcha. Good, then. Great. I’ve got this covered Magnus, don’t worry about it! When’s the date?”

“Five hours and twenty minutes from now, after my upcoming shift,” Magnus answered stiffly. “So if you’ll excuse me, I have to be going. Thank you for your patience and compliance in accordance with inspection requirements.”

Swerve made finger guns and clicked his teeth, grinning. “Good luck on the date Mags!”

“Magnus!”

  
  


\------------------------------------

  
  


Rodimus sighed, etching yet another design into his desk. He was drawing over the soldered piece and thinking. Ever since that meteor surfing, he’d been even more consumed with thoughts of Ultra Magnus, and… well, dating him would be a leap, of sorts. What was wrong with Rodimus taking it? They had good chemistry, and they were going out for drinks tonight. Rodimus could ask him!

His shift passed agonizingly slowly, like claws scraping down a Con’s backplates with a scree-ee-eech. By the end of it Rodimus was nearly in physical pain and tears from the boredom and writhed in his chair, groaning in sheer frustration. The clock switched to his clock-out time and he rushed the module in his office, frantically punching in numbers and nearly collapsing with relief when he was officially off the clock. Giddy with excitement he giggled and nearly ran to Swerve’s, passing Drift in the hallway.

“Woah!” Drift shouted. “Where’s the fire, Roddy?”

“Can’t talk, gonna be early to drinks with Magnus!” Rodimus shouted back, and skidded into the doorway of Swerve’s, beaming. The bartender saw him and waved.

“Hey, Roddy!” Swerve yelled, “your table’s over there, number 13! Mags is already here.”

Magnus was indeed already waiting at the table, and Rodimus eagerly went to sit down across from him, flushed with the running he’d done to get here. “Hey!”

“Evening, Rodimus,” Magnus said, dipping his head. “You… have a glow.”

“Just excited,” Rodimus said, breathless, and hailed Swerve for drinks. “So, how was your shift?”

“Very well, thank you. I accomplished all of my duties early and even took care of some of tomorrow’s paperwork -- I’m very pleased with myself. And yours?”

“Hey, that’s great! Uh, mine --” Rodimus grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. “I wasn’t quite as productive, uh… not for lack of trying, though. It was just really hard today.”

“Have you maybe tried seeing Rung about some medication? He’d be happy to help, or maybe with some therapy?”

“Pffft,” Rodimus said, swiping a hand. “I don’t need meds, I can just power through! Most of the time…”

Magnus sighed through his nose. “Well, alright. What would you like to drink?” he asked, as Swerve came over.

“Uh, just a regular for me, pal,” Rodimus said. Then Magnus requested something non-engexic and Swerve scurried off to make drinks. Rodimus sighed and had a brilliant idea. “Say, um… so, if you’re taking me out to drinks, I have a question.” Magnus gestured for him to go on, so he did, now all of a sudden a little nervous. His tanks fluttered. “So, um… we’re still in the asteroid belt, kinda, and there’s an easier meteor shower we’re coming up on by tomorrow, and… well… my point is, do you wanna… maybe go surfing with me? I can show you how, it’s real easy!”

Magnus’ face darkened as his eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. “Well,” the blue giant replied, “I… I don’t see why not. Are you sure I can?”

“Oh, yeah, big guy,” Rodimus said, swiping a hand. “Easy as pie. Trust me, once you get the hang of it, it’s a blast!”

“I see.” Magnus cleared his throat yet again. “Well, I… I’ve already filed the paperwork for tonight’s excursion, so shall I file the same for tomorrow’s, or use a different form?”

“Huh? Mags, you filed paperwork to go for drinks?” Rodimus giggled. That was too sweet, it was genuinely endearing.

“In accordance with Article 2 of the Autobot Code, Section 5, Subsection 36,” Magnus said gravely and if Rodimus wasn’t mistaken, eagerly, like he was waiting for his accomplishments to be recognized. “All officers going on outings as more than comrades must file the appropriate paperwork to be processed and put on record by high command; these outings may or may not be romantic.” He paused for a moment. “I filed Forms GT156-A and FH437-C, as I assumed this was a platonic meetup for drinks -- but if you… would like… I could, um…” he coughed. “I could file Form BU784-G. Or Form OS113-A. For… romantic excursions.”

Rodimus’ own eyes widened like moons and his face heated up, his fuel pump pounding. Magnus was asking… to court him! He really had no idea what any of those forms were -- he didn’t think he’d even  _ seen _ them -- but… this was Magnus’ way of asking him out. Rodimus found himself beaming before he could process it, and Magnus squirmed, unsure.

“You beat me to it, big guy,” Rodimus said gleefully. “I’d love to go out with you. Um… yeah, go ahead and file the second ones if you want to.”

Magnus’ face was as dark as Rodimus had ever seen it, and the big blue giant nodded silently, as Swerve came over with drinks.

“Ta-daa,” the cheerful little bartender said. “Enjoy, my friends!”

“Thank you, Swerve,” Magnus said. “Oh, and -- Swerve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think we could use that candle.”

Swerve’s face softened into a gentle smile. “I’ll bring it right over.”

**III.**

**Adventure**

  
  


“Okay,” Rodimus said. They were standing at the doorway again. “So, you know to go slow, right? As big as you are, we don’t want anyone getting hurt. Nice and easy.”

“Nice and easy,” Magnus repeated, wringing his hands. “Rodimus, are you sure-”

“Trust me, Mags,” Rodimus said, laying a hand on his elbow, his cheeks pink. They’d only started dating yesterday, but it was like giving his feelings an outlet had magnified them tenfold. The hangar doors opened and the air howled through, showing the meteors falling all around them. “You just gotta trust me, and jump!”

He ran for the door and Magnus cried for him to wait, running after him without thinking. Rodimus jumped and flipped midair, laying on his back as the wind cradled him so he could watch Magnus. Magnus had frozen in the doorway.

_“It’s now or never, Mags!”_ Rodimus shouted, _“Just follow me! **Trust me!** You can do it!”_

Magnus chewed his lower lip violently, closed his eyes, and jumped. Rodimus howled in delight as Magnus fell to meet him and ended up beside him, cracking open his eyes.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Rodimus shouted over the wind. “It’s breathtaking!”

“That’s certainly a word for it,” Magnus shouted back, looking around for a meteor. Rodimus took pity on him and tilted his way over, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Trust me,” he said again, loudly, but without shouting this time. “Just follow my lead, big guy.”

Magnus’s anxious blue eyes trained on Rodimus’ face, and the armored giant nodded, watching as Rodimus flipped back onto his stomach and tilted so his feet were angled down. He suddenly accelerated, slicing straight down through the air and to a small meteor he saw falling beneath him. He shrieked in mechadrenaline-laced delight and planted his feet directly onto it, angling himself sideways so he could steer with his hips. Magnus touched down on a larger one next to him, keeping himself very still and awkward.

“You gotta turn sideways, like this!” Rodimus shouted over the roaring. Magnus looked over, and did so, his form not all that bad for a beginner. “Steer with your hips where you wanna go, big guy, like this!” And he did a very cheeky set of waggles back and forth before straightening out. Magnus tried it and nearly lost his balance, so he settled for just keeping the meteor straight for now. “That’s it, you got it! You’re a natural, Mags!”

“Magnus!” the security director shouted back out of habit, but he wasn’t paying attention. He was nearly white as a ghost, obviously frightened, and so Rodimus steered his meteor a little closer to offer encouragement.

“Hey, Mags!”

“Magnus!” Ultra Magnus replied, before looking over. “Yes, Captain!”

“Take a look at what you’re doing,” Rodimus shouted, beaming. “You’re surfing a meteor, big guy!”

Magnus looked down at his feet and how fast they were approaching the planet and laughed unbelievingly, high and fast. He looked back over at Rodimus, incredulous smile still on his face. “I -- I _am!”_

“Yeah!” Rodimus said, and looked down. This was gonna be a short ride -- which was why it was a beginner’s shower. “Now, we’re gonna have to start getting ready to land, okay! Adjust your posture like this! Good! Now, you wanna jump approximately five seconds before the meteor touches down, and that way the blast of it hitting the ground cushions your fall! So we’re gonna jump in  _ twenty seconds! _ Count with me -- one! Two! Three-”

“Four,” Magnus shouted in unison, “Five! Six! Seven-”

Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Rodimus was barely thinking anymore, consumed with the sheer mechadrenaline rush of landing. “Sixteen! Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty!  ** _Jump,_ ** _ Magnus! Jump now!” _

Rodimus pushed off and went flying, and Magnus followed his lead, arms windmilling. “W-woah! Rodimus --”

“You got it, just wait, keep your feet under you,” Rodimus shouted, coaching. The meteors hit ground with a ground-shattering **_BOOM_**_,_ and then the shock wave billowed up behind them and pushed them as firmly as if Megatron had shoved their backplates between the shoulders. Rodimus went flying and touched down a few feet away from a small drop-off cliff, skidding to a halt and kicking up dust and pebbles. With a shout, Magnus went flying right over.

_“Magnus!”_ Rodimus cried, running to the edge. Magnus was still shouting in alarm, arms windmilling as he tried to get his bearings. The cliff was at a slope -- Rodimus could see the gears turning in his brain as he angled himself to land on the slope and slide, kicking up a shower of dirt and pebbles all the way down the mountainside, leaving a gash in the land. Finally, finally he slowed, and then stopped, vents heaving as he looked back up to the cliff.

Rodimus burst out laughing and vaulted the clifftop, feet planting themselves into the dirt of the slope as he slid all the way down, too. He didn’t stop -- instead as soon as he slowed down enough, he transitioned right into a jog, jogging over to where Magnus still held his arms out to balance and hadn’t moved his feet. The speedster pulled Magnus’s arms down. “You can relax, big guy,” he said, softly, as the dust settled all around them, and meteors streaked down like falling stars. “You did _amazing._ That was _incredible.”_

“I -- I fell off a cliff,” Magnus said, helplessly.

“Yeah, and turned it into one of the most coolest landings I’ve ever seen,” Rodimus said, high off of his rush. Magnus was too, he could tell. It was impossible not to be. “Magnus, I’ve never seen anyone think so fast at a landing possibly gone bad like that. Come on, admit it. It was fun, right?”

“It…” Magnus swallowed, panting. Then he smiled. “It _was_… fun,” he admitted, and started to laugh. “It was fun! By god, it was _fun!”_

“That’s my guy,” Rodimus said, but before he could say anything else, Magnus swooped him up and started to kiss him, before pulling back.

“Er -- sorry. Is this alright?”

“You had better get over here and kiss me before I shove you back down this cliff,” Rodimus growled, grinning, and yanked Magnus in by the collar fairing for them to kiss. As they shared their first kiss, meteors crashed to the ground around them and clouded the sky red with iron-rich dust, and beams of light from the planet's setting suns speared through like shafts through the dust to illuminate the pair of lovers.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission from my wonderful, lovely, amazing wife @starscrearn! Please go check out their ao3, you won't be disappointed <3


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